


Crossplay =/= Foodplay

by Amuly



Category: Leverage
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-31
Updated: 2010-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-03 23:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot is curious about fetishes; so is Hardison. This leads to foodplay. Takes place after episode 303 “Inside Job”. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossplay =/= Foodplay

After the job, Hardison and Eliot were relaxing the same way they always did: Hardison was slowly working his way through a two-liter of orange soda while he played some WoW, while Eliot was doing some sort of elaborate workout routine. Something involving sit-ups, pull-ups, and some sort of…upside down…sit-up…things? Whatever it was, it involved Eliot getting nice and sweaty with his shirt off, so Hardison never complained. And the workouts almost always ended with Eliot jumping in the shower to rinse off, then heading over to Hardison for some help burning off the rest of his energy. Something else Hardison never complained about.

This time, things were a little different. Eliot finished up his workout, as usual. And he jumped in the shower for just a few minutes to rinse himself off, as usual. But when he walked over to Hardison, fresh towel slung tantalizing low on his waist, Eliot paused, cocking his head.

“Hey, Hardison, can I ask you something?”

Hardison blinked, dragging his gaze away from the delicious V of Eliot’s toned stomach that was doing its best to lead his eyes straight to the other man’s groin. “Yeah, what?” Hardison was a teensy bit apprehensive. It wasn’t like Eliot to ask questions, and especially not to _ask_ if he could ask questions. Eliot just… _did_.

“You know that freaky guy we saw today?”

Hardison had to think back for a moment. “Oh! The Sailor Moon cross-player?”

Eliot frowned, the terminology obviously getting the better of him. “Guy in a girl’s dress at the address that wasn’t Parkers.”

“Sailor Moon cross-player,” Hardison asserted again. “What up? You wanna…” Hardison raised his eyebrows, “You wanna dress up like that? ‘Cause, I gotta tell you, there’s a lot more fun chicks you could pick for cross-play. We got Buffy, Laura, Catwoman…” 

“No! No.” Eliot was looking uncomfortable at how quickly Hardison started reciting his list of “Top Twenty Sexy Females I’d Totally Go Straight For”. He shifted from foot to foot, finally leaning in and whispering: “You don’t…are you into that creepy…those Sailor Moon, things?”

Hardison hurried to reassure Eliot, grabbing the edge of the towel and pulling him closer, until he was standing between Hardison’s jean-clad legs. “No. No, man. You dressing up like Leia: fulfilled my wildest fantasies, right there. I got nothing else.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Eliot’s damp skin, just above the towel. He felt Eliot’s stomach twitch beneath his lips and tongue, as he slowly yanked the towel away.

Of course, if Hardison was being _perfectly_ honest, he might have just a _few_ more kinky ideas locked away. He had some lightsaber vibrators bookmarked on his netbook that he was planning on getting himself for Christmas. They made the _noise_ , after all. _And_ lit up.

Then there was the Spike/Angel community that Hardison had been a part of when he was a teenager. He had always wanted to be fucked, _hard_ , by Spike, but upon meeting Eliot he kind of thought he might make a better Angel. Of course, if that led to some roleplaying where Eliot had to beat up Hardison-as-Spike to stop him from doing evil things – just a little bit, of course – well, all the better.

And of course, wand insertion had been a fantasy of Hardison’s as soon as J. K. Rowling had introduced him to the devilishly handsome Sirius Black when he was in ninth grade. He had started stealing pencils from the school, just so he wouldn’t have to explain to Nana why he was going through them so quickly.

But Eliot didn’t need to know about any of those kinks. 

As Eliot’s heavy palms settled on Hardison’s head, pushing him towards the damp erection in front of him, Hardison hesitated and glanced up. “Why? You got some fetishes you haven’t told me about?”

Eliot hesitated. Just for a split-second: if Hardison hadn’t known Eliot for so long he wouldn’t have even noticed. But Eliot definitely hesitated.

Hardison stood up, sliding his hands around Eliot’s waist with a wicked grin. “Uh-oh. Now I’m thinking you _do_ have something, don’t you?”

Eliot growled, eyes darting around the room like a caged animal. 

“Come on, babe,” Hardison leaned forward and pecked Eliot on the lips. When he pulled away, the look in Eliot’s eyes was murderous.

“Don’t call me babe.”

“Then tell me your kink. Come on: it can’t be worse than you in a slave-Leia costume, right?”

Eliot growled again, but finally relented. “Food.”

“Huh?”

“Food! It’s food, alright?”

Hardison frowned. “You mean, like…you wanna have _sex_ with the food, or…”

“No, I don’t want to have sex with the food!” Eliot pulled out of Hardison’s grasp, pacing the apartment naked, hand going through his still-wet hair. “I just…” he waved his hand at Hardison. “Like, with you. Feeding you stuff. Or, licking food off you. Whatever.”

Hardison raised his eyebrows. _Oh_. Well, that could be good. He pulled Eliot back to him and rubbed his palms up and down his lower back. “You wanna try some food stuff?”

Eliot glared, but the look didn’t have the heat behind it that it normally did. “Don’t need to.”

With a chuckle, Hardison leaned forward and nuzzled at Eliot’s neck. As much as the man acted like he wasn’t into cuddling, Hardison knew that he _so_ was. “Not about what you _need_ ,” he punctuated this with a little grind of his hips against Eliot’s. He felt the other man harden in response. “It’s about what you _want_.” He pulled away, looking down at Eliot. “Tell me what you _want_.”

With a growl – this time of arousal, not irritation, and oh did _that_ make Hardison horny as hell – Eliot scooped Hardison up over his shoulder and carried him to the bedroom. Within thirty seconds, Hardison found himself stripped, blindfolded, and lying on the bed. Beneath the blindfold he blinked. “Do this often?”

Eliot’s voice was right next to his ear, warm breath sending shivers down Hardison’s spine. “Not usually under these circumstances.” There was a pause as Hardison felt Eliot pull away. Suddenly warm, wet heat was licking a stripe of fire up his cock. Hardison yelped and thrust up into the air madly. As suddenly as it had come, it was gone, and Hardison heard Eliot stomping off to the kitchen. “Don’t move! I’ll be back in a minute.”

Hardison groaned and slammed his head against the pillow three or four times. Why the hell did he suggest this? Why couldn’t he have just suggested Eliot fuck his brains out, like normal? Now he was going to have to put up with torture for however long Eliot made it last.

The sound of Eliot’s quiet footsteps alerted Hardison to his return. There were a few moments when all Hardison could hear was the sound of glass clinking gently against each other and his nightstand. Then, a growled command from Eliot: “Open up.”

Hardison had absolutely no compunctions about opening his mouth for Eliot – wasn’t like he didn’t do it all the time. His jaw dropped open and he waited. A moment later something cool was tracing the circumference of his lips. Hardison darted his tongue out, and tasted the faint, fresh flavor of strawberry before the food was pulled away and a rough hand tapped him lightly on the cheek. “Hey,” Eliot growled, “Don’t rush this.”

Hardison shifted meaningfully, letting his hips thrust into the air just a bit. “All up to you. Whatever you want.”

The strawberry traced his lips again in a gentle caress. Finally, it pushed past, into his mouth, and Eliot commanded: “Bite.”

Hardison obeyed, moaning as the rich juices of the strawberry flooded his mouth. The sound of his own chewing and swallowing covered up the sound of what Eliot was doing. Next thing he knew, Eliot’s finger was pushing into his mouth, covered in a dollop of whipped cream. He licked at the cream, then continued to suck at Eliot’s finger even after the cream was gone. Above him, he heard Eliot’s breathing quicken, felt him shift onto the bed. With a soft _pop_ Eliot removed his finger from his mouth. Hardison waited for more.

“You know, whipped cream and strawberries? Talk about cliché.”

_Fuck_ , Eliot’s growl made him harder than Mike Tyson in Punch Out. Hardison snaked a hand down to his straining erection, but Eliot’s rough hand was there, grabbing his wrist and stopping him. “No. You don’t get to touch yourself until _I_ say you do.” Hardison put up a token resistance, but then relaxed under Eliot’s hands. Eliot’s lips were pressed up against his ear before he even realized Eliot had moved. They whispered the words, “And whipped cream and strawberries were the best we had. Next time, I’ll plan ahead.”

Hardison could only moan in response as Eliot took his earlobe into his mouth and nibbled at it. Then his teeth were gone, and Hardison heard the telltale sounds of a whipped cream bottle being shaken. 

He jumped just a little when the first spray of cool cream hit his nipples: first his right, then his left. Then little spurts of cream made a trail down his chest, stomach, until it stopped just above his aching cock. It was sheer force of will – and perhaps a bit of fear of Eliot – that kept Hardison from thrusting his hips up, pulling Eliot’s mouth _down_ , or doing any number of other things to hurry the process along. His patience was rewarded when he felt cool cream spread in a line from the base of his cock to the head. He groaned, clutching at the sheets and doing his best to hold still.

There was the clatter of the bottle dropping to the floor, and then the bed shifted under the weight of Eliot climbing onto it. Hardison felt the bed depress on all sides of him, and the heat of Eliot’s thighs inches away from his own. “Now: hold still.”

Even with Eliot’s order, Hardison couldn’t help but arch to the touch of Eliot’s tongue as it lapped the whipped cream off his left nipple. “F-f-fuck...” Hardison gasped as the tongue turned to teeth, and Eliot rolled the hardened nub of flesh between them. “Eliot, come on, can’t I...?”

“Stay _still_.” The wickedly talented tongue and teeth moved to his other nipple, paying the same careful attention to it as they had its twin. Hardison groaned, daring to run a hand through Eliot’s hair. Sure enough, Eliot ripped the hand away, before continuing his journey down Hardison’s body. Hardison supposed he’d just have to take the good with the bad, and right now, the good was very, _very_ good.

He felt Eliot pause after licking the last drop of whipped cream from his stomach. He could feel Eliot’s warm breath on his cock, hovering just inches away. It took all the restraint he had, but Hardison stayed still, waiting for Eliot to move.

It was worth it. Eliot’s tongue licked a fiery path up his turgid flesh, collecting the whipped cream in his mouth as he went. Hardison couldn’t help but moan as Eliot’s lips closed over the head, sucking at lapping at the cream on top.

As soon as his tongue was there, it was gone. Hardison slammed his hands down on the sheets in frustration. He felt the bed dip around his sides, and then Eliot’s mouth was on his, passing whipped cream tinged with the taste of Hardison’s own skin and precome into his. Hardison moaned into the kiss, swallowing down the cream even as he sucked at Eliot’s lower lip.

“Want me to take the blindfold off while I fuck you?”

Hardison nodded, arching up against Eliot’s body. “Yeah; yeah, please. Come on.”

With one smooth movement, Eliot ripped the blindfold off of Hardison. Blinking in the sudden light, the first thing that Hardison managed to focus on was Eliot’s lust-blown pupils, a mere sliver of blue outlining the black. He thought he caught a glimmer of affection in the eyes before they were gone, and Eliot was leaning over to the side of the bed for lube. 

He smacked Hardison’s thighs unceremoniously, jerking his thumbs up. “Come on.”

Hardison moved obediently, slinging his legs over Eliot’s shoulders as Eliot pulled him down the bed, maneuvering their hips closer together. Hardison watched as Eliot frowned in concentration, smearing lube onto his fingers before pressing one inside him. He gave himself over to the sensation, relishing the burn that faded quickly into a need for _more_.

Eliot’s preparation was almost always the same: quick, thorough, and just a little bit rough. Hardison bit down on his lip as Eliot shoved a second thick finger inside him, scissoring it before he was even adjusted to the intrusion. To Hardison’s surprise, Eliot broke his routine. There was a pause as his fingers stilled inside Hardison, sliding together gently. Hardison glanced down, only to see Eliot bending over him, studying his expression.

“You okay?”

Hardison blinked. Eliot _never_ asked about him. Not that Hardison wasn’t always satisfied – he totally was, every delicious time. But Eliot had never stopped to check on his well being before.

Hardison had to swallow several times before he managed to croak out “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

With one last concerned glance, Eliot bent his head and kissed Hardison quickly, before going back to scissoring him open. Hardison was too shocked by the gesture to even kiss back before Eliot’s lips were gone, and his face was furrowed in concentration once more. 

Three fingers soon replaced the two, Eliot’s free hand clenching reflexively on Hardison’s thigh as he bore down. “Ready?”

Hardison moaned, nodding vigorously. As thick and talented as Eliot’s fingers were, Hardison _craved_ something more, needed to feel Eliot’s cock inside of him. Hardison lifted his head to glance down as Eliot pulled his fingers out and slicked himself up. Strands of hair, still wet from the shower, hung down in front of Eliot’s face as he stroked himself, coating himself in lube. Wicked blue eyes flicked up when Eliot felt him watching, and a smirk appeared on his face. “Eager?”

Hardison rolled his eyes and pushed his hips down. “Always eager for you, sweetness. Come on.”

He was rewarded with a sharp smack on his flank. “What did we say about the pet names?” 

Hardison groaned, trying to push down closer to Eliot. “Sorry, sorry. No pet names. Big strong man, not sweetness.”

Eliot grunted agreeably to the concession. Then – oh sweet goodness, _yes_ – Eliot was pushing in, feeding himself into Hardison’s eager passage. Hardison moaned, blunt fingernails dragging across Eliot’s forearms. Eliot stopped once he was fully sheathed, breathing heavily as he gazed down at Hardison. “Good?”

“Good, good, _move_.” 

He earned a grunt and sharp thrust for that, but Hardison found he couldn’t even pretend like that was punishment. He moaned, undulating his hips to meet Eliot’s perfect thrusts each time. They moved together, pushing Eliot’s cock deeper and deeper into Hardison, until he was moaning and shaking on the sheets beneath Eliot. 

He detached one hand from Eliot’s forearm, sliding it down to his arousal straining against his stomach. But Eliot’s hand was there, quicker than his own, slapping his away. “No, damn it.” Eliot’s hand did no more than squeeze the base of his erection, as the man stared into Hardison’s eyes and continued to thrust. “You’re not about to come yet.” With one deft movement he captured Hardison’s wrist in his hand, pinning them to the younger man’s stomach.

Hardison groaned and whined, even as each powerful thrust of Eliot’s hips spiraled him further out of control. “Please, please El- can’t...”

Flexing his wrists uselessly, Hardison tried to break free from Eliot’s grasp. The movement only caused Eliot to thrust harder, grunts and groans signaling the approach of his own orgasm. As Eliot’s thrust grew more erratic, the fire pooling in Hardison’s belly grew sharper, until he was coming and coming, cock pulsing and untouched against his stomach. Hardison cried out, shaking as Eliot continued to thrust into him.

Just as Hardison was coming down from his own orgasm, he felt Eliot stiffen and breathe in sharply through his nose. Wet heat filled him, and Hardison moaned as his sated cock gave a pathetic twitch in response. 

Never one to waste a second, Eliot had pulled out, cleaned up, and tossed a damp towel at Hardison before the younger man even registered that his comforting weight was gone. “Hey,” he propped himself up onto his elbows, watching Eliot pad across the bedroom naked as he headed for his backpack. Eliot grunted in response, rummaging through the pack before pulling out a book and heading back over to the bed. “Did you like it?”

The bedsprings creaked as Eliot settled on the bed next to him, book in his lap. He didn’t answer for a moment, reaching over and grabbing the bowl of strawberries to place between the two of them. As Eliot bit down on his first one, he looked over at Hardison, a smirk painting his face. “It was fine.”

“Fine?” Hardison raised his eyebrows. “ _Fine_? Damn near broke me, man, and you’re going with _fine_?”

Eliot just grinned wider as he bit into another strawberry, juice painting his lips even redder than their normal post-coital flush. “Well, I think there’s room for improvement. Maybe we could try some acids next time on your nipples, like lemon juice. Cut it with a base like a cream sauce...” his eyes roved Hardison’s naked body like a chef mentally plating a meal. “Yeah.”

Hardison groaned, flopping back against the pillows. “You’re killing me.”

Eliot’s chuckle only served to lull Hardison to sleep.


End file.
